My Tye (18 page)

The long ridge of his cock hidden behind his zipper had her moaning all over again. She raised her rear off the edge of the counter, pushing back at him, wanting more. He moved his other hand, wasting no time as he slid it down and around to the other cheek of her ass. He helped her along by lifting her, grinding against her, killing her little by little.

She broke away from his kiss and tossed her head back. “Tye…”

She wasn’t looking for a response and he didn’t give her one. Instead, he continued on to her neck, licking and kissing her there, finding that one spot sure to drive her insane.

“Ah God. More,” she whispered.

More. Harder. Longer. She wanted it all. And she wanted it now.

In the next heartbeat, he gave it to her.

“Up,” he ordered. “On the counter.”

Without releasing her grip, she let him lift her to where he wanted her. He held her there, her ass on the edge of the counter, teetering and unsure yet eager for anything and everything he had to offer her. He brought his hands between them once again, fingering the string inside the shorts where it lay hidden next to her skin. He met her stare as he pulled the cord slowly, inch by little inch, until it popped free of its bow. She bit her lower lip and turned her gaze away from his, her heart going haywire as he worked his fingers underneath the waistband of his borrowed basketball shorts.

“No, Laine. Stay here,” he said, bringing one finger to her chin and turning her back.

Oh, she was here. Maybe she was
too
here. She’d dreamed of this for too long, of him touching her like this, of him calling the shots and taking care of her. Tears stung her eyes again, but not because of any sadness or anger or fear.

“Get out of your head, baby. Just feel this. All of it. Feel me.”

God, she did. She felt him. She felt every touch with a crazy supersensitivity she’d never experienced before. She felt his breath hot on her face. His hips nestled between her shaky thighs. The heat dancing from his fingertips as he loosened the waistband of the shorts, then the fire from them as he skimmed over her belly, heading lower. She felt her wetness coat them as he slicked them between her folds, as he brushed over her clit for the first time.

She sucked back a quick, hard breath, holding it in for what seemed like forever before letting it out on a long hiss.

And then he did it again. Slowly, yet more firmly. She thought her fingers might break from how hard she held on to the counter. She thought she might lose her mind if he didn’t touch her like that again.

Not that she had anything to worry about. The intensity bursting from him kept her spellbound. She lost herself within his eyes, within every hard and heavy beat of his heart. She could hear each thump. Hell, she shared each one with him.

He ravaged her lips the instant he delved deeper. He thrust first one finger inside her, then another. She wanted to scream out. She wanted to sob like a baby.

But more than any of that, she wanted him to make her come. She needed it, like a junkie needed a fix. For that to happen, though, she’d have to do as he said. She’d have to get out of her own head. She‘d have to give up everything inside her mind if she wanted this amazing feeling to continue, if she wanted to see it through to where she knew he could take her.

With his free hand, he lifted her leg, guiding her so that her legs naturally wrapped around his hips. He nibbled at her mouth while whispering sexy snippets to her.

“Easy now…”

“God, baby…”

“Yes. So sweet, so wet…”

Each word sent her flying. Every growl he let loose between the words brought her closer.

“Tye…”

His touches began to meld together, over her clit, inside her. It felt as though he were touching her everywhere and all at once, and it took everything she had inside her not to let go of the counter and reach for him. The physical and mental denial of that, of his earlier instructions, only amped her up that much more.

She closed her eyes, breathing out while he breathed in. Holding her entire body taut, she fought the orgasm rising within in her, all while cursing that it hadn’t yet unleashed itself to claim her.

So many sensations bombarded her—the tingles turning into electrical zings, the breaths that became whispers, the sighs morphing into moans. She was there, right on the edge of where she wanted to be, but couldn’t quite push herself to take that final step.

Not until he spoke once again.

“Now, Laine. Come now.”

Those simple words flipped the release switch inside her. There was no stopping the rush consuming her then. No stopping the ferocity with which it overtook her. She was coming, and completely helpless to do anything but ride it out. The rush centered around his fingers before bursting outward to engulf the rest of her. Every inch of her went with it. Every ounce of her reacted to it. Her nipples tightened, her toes curled. Her thighs cramped from holding him between them so tightly.

“Perfect,” was all he whispered to her.

At that moment, under his control, she
felt
perfect. Empowered. A strange disparity maybe, but one that alternately made so much sense to her.

He eased off on his touches, bringing her down slowly. Despite the energy racing through her body, or maybe because of it, the stabbing ice picks made a return appearance across her forehead. She didn’t want him know that, but like everything else, he picked up on it without her having to say a word.

He slid his hand out of the shorts while bringing his other around to support her between her shoulder blades. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he had the chance.

“Please don’t apologize.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He caressed the tense area between her drawn eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. “You’re hurting.”

She slowed her breath and loosed her death grip on the counter. “Only a little. The rest pretty much makes up for it.”

He grinned a little at that. “Maybe we found the cure for concussions?”

She leaned into the stroke of his thumb a little more and sighed. “I think we found the cure for something.”

Just as she was about to ask if she could let go of the counter, he made sure she was steadied and then reached for her hands. He held them gently, rubbing circles over her knuckles to soothe the ache he had to know was there.

“You were right,” she said.

“Was I?”

She nodded gingerly. “He’s still here, but not as much as before. You’re here more now. The memory of this, of you, won’t ever leave this room.”

Or her heart. For the moment, though, she was keeping that part to herself.

Bringing her to her feet, he took her into his arms. She stood on her tiptoes and held on to him just as tightly, realizing that he never asked for, nor took, anything in return. He’d given her pleasure, along with so much more, only to end up soothing her once again. The balance between them was so skewed, and he had to be feeling the effects of that.

“Are you…” she started to whisper into his ear. “I mean…”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I get what I want just by giving you what you need.”

Which he had. He’d given her more, really, than he’d ever know. But that still didn’t keep her from wanting to give him something, no matter how little, right back.

“Let me take you home,” he said then, sufficiently ending that part of the conversation before it ever really got started.

Even though she
was
home, she knew what he meant. He might’ve taken a few steps toward ridding her house if its demons, but when all was said and done, it still wasn’t enough. She was more than ready to get out of here and go back to the ranch with him. And as they walked out of the bathroom together and he picked up the duffel bag from where she’d dropped it on the floor in her bedroom, she wondered if she’d ever truly be ready to return here.

She wondered if she’d ever truly want to.

Four days had passed since Tye had taken Laine back to her house. Four long, excruciating days had gone by since he last touched her. Sure, he’d kissed her. Gently. Quickly. And yes, he’d held her as they sat on the couch at night watching TV until she fell asleep in his arms and he put her to bed. His bed. Alone. There’d been nothing more than that.

The effects of her concussion had all but disappeared. The once-raw circles around her neck, wrists and ankles were healing well and now looked like nothing more than patches of rough, dry skin. The bruise around her eye had turned a pale shade of yellow. She’d taken to hiding it under a light coat of makeup, which she’d told him made her feel “at least halfway normal”. He didn’t think it was too much of a coincidence that seeing her face injury-free went a long way in helping him out, too.

Yet despite all that, he still hadn’t
touched
her. And all the holding back was starting to get to him.

He promised himself after that night in the bathroom that he wouldn’t move on her like that again until she was completely healed. He knew the intensity of her orgasm hadn’t mixed well with her concussion. And even though she hadn’t complained, not even once, he still wanted to kick his own ass for causing her any sort of pain at all.

He was frustrated beyond belief, and not just sexually. With no hard evidence, her case had the potential of quickly going cold. There hadn’t been any other attacks, which wasn’t wholly unexpected. Mac had called him the next day to inform him that he’d impounded her car but it was clean of any prints or trace evidence and that, yes, the perpetrator responsible for the attacks five years ago was still receiving his three squares a day in his cozy confines behind bars, which boiled down to them having a new culprit running around on the loose. A copycat, maybe. Or a relative on a vendetta. Or, Lord forbid, a fan of the fucker who was looking to continue the legacy.

None of those scenarios appealed to Tye in the least. Any one of them had him seeing ten different shades of red. Still, when it came to Laine, the whys or hows or whos didn’t really matter. Someone involved in the old cases, or some brand-spanking-new freak show—it was all the same to him. Either way, he sure as hell wasn’t going to take even the slightest of chances.

He insisted on keeping her at the ranch and at first she seemed okay with that. But today he witnessed a new restlessness amping up inside her. The way she’d repeatedly wander from the kitchen to the living room and back again. The way she’d sit to watch TV, then toss the remote on the coffee table and start pacing again only a few minutes later. She was getting fidgety, as any typically busy person would get when their professional life came to a screeching halt. He knew she hated calling in sick, hated being in touch with her office only by email and a few phone calls. Add to that the fact she was feeling better, and boredom was readily eating her up inside.

But Tye had a plan to change all that, at least for tonight.

The delivery truck pulled up right on time. It paid to know people in town, and Tye wasn’t above calling in some favors when it came to taking care of Laine. When the knock came at the door, he glanced up from the mess of paperwork covering his kitchen table to where she sat at the breakfast counter.

“Mind answering that?”

Her gaze bounced from him to the door and back again, like she wasn’t so sure he really meant what he asked.

“It’s okay,” he added. “I know who it is.”

“Um, all right.”

As she walked over to the front door, he pushed his chair away from the table, leaned back and crossed his arms. This scenario could end one of two ways—with her smiling and happy, or with her closing herself off from him.

He sure as fuck was counting on the smiling and happy outcome.

Murmurs trickled in from the doorway, and a second later she kicked the door closed and came back into the room with a big, rectangular box in her hands. Despite the sideways glance she gave him, a smile grew on her lips.

Thank God.

“What did you do?”

Since he already told her he knew who was at the door, he figured acting like he didn’t have clue to what she was talking about wouldn’t really work. “It’s for you. Open it.”

There was something mystical about the way she carefully set the box on the table and gingerly lifted the lid—so unlike a kid at Christmastime ripping through the wrappings of the gift she’d waited for all year long. She pulled back the tissue paper with a tenderness he hadn’t really expected, like she wanted to savor whatever it was he was surprising her with.

When her eyes widened, he couldn’t help but smile, too.

“A dress?”

“And shoes.”

She lifted the black strapless cocktail dress from the box and held it up. After a second, she said, “To wear around the house?”

Tye stood then, coming around to her side of the table. He stroked his hand gently up her back. “No. I’m taking you out.”

She clutched the little black dress to her chest. “Like, out of here?”

He chuckled. “Very out of here. I have a friend who owns the art gallery over in Allendale. He’s agreed to let us have a private viewing of his upcoming show. Then, afterward, we can stop for a late dinner.”